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ballroom entirely. So she must spend her evening elsewhere . . .

She flew the Black Crow on autopilot, muscle memory taking her to the Fairmont parking garage, where she brought the time machine to land beside an identical Black Crow, this one from the past. It unnerved her, a little, to see two versions of the same ship parked side by side.

She flipped off the machine’s engine and sat in the gathering chill of the cockpit.

Where to go?

It had been clear when Ash approached her in the bathroom that evening that it had been his first time seeing her as Quinn Fox. So she must not speak to him again until after that confrontation.

She climbed out of the time machine and made her way outside, around the side of the hotel, to the back docks that led just below the bathrooms where she’d met Ash. It was cool but not unpleasantly so, and the shadows hid her well. She waited.

A few moments passed. And then the bathroom window slid open and a man’s torso appeared in the darkness.

Dorothy stood in silence, a hand pressed to her mouth as Ash’s dusty-blond head exited the window, followed by his shoulders, his torso.

Watching him, she felt her breath catch in her throat. He was here, alive and looking very much as he had the first time she ever saw him. Thickly muscled arms that hinted at days performing hard labor, skin reddened from spending so long in the sun, and that leather jacket that seemed to fit him like a second skin. Warmth spread through her chest and climbed her neck. It took every bit of willpower she had to keep herself from reaching out for him.

Ash grunted as he wriggled through the small space, not once looking her way. Once he’d pulled himself all the way through, he hesitated, still crouched on the sill just below the window and staring down at the black water below. Dorothy took a deep breath. This was it. She needed to announce her presence, say something.

But, when she opened her mouth, she found that she couldn’t quite find her voice. It was funny, she’d spoken to Ash only a few days ago, and yet it felt like she hadn’t seen him in years.

And now here he was, close enough that she could reach out and touch his shoulder, and she found that she couldn’t utter a single word.

A moment later, Ash jumped, spraying the dock where she stood with dirty black water.

Dorothy shook her head, cursing herself. This was Ash, after all. And, according to Chandra, she’d already spoken to him. What had her so nervous? She moved away from the shadows and came to stand at the edge of the dock, waiting for him.

Ash surfaced a moment later, spitting up a mouthful of water. It took him a moment to wipe the water from his eyes, and then he was blinking up at her, frowning slightly.

“You got out here quick,” he said, grasping the edge of the dock to pull himself up.

Dorothy’s throat felt suddenly dry.

Ash crawled onto the dock and pushed the wet hair back from his forehead. “Did you change your mind?” he asked.

The question caught her off guard, and Dorothy found herself blinking at him, confused. She searched her memory, trying to remember what they’d been talking about the night of the ball, but she came up blank.

“Change my mind?” she managed.

Ash took a step closer to her, water dripping from his hair, his jacket. He still smelled like smoke, even soaking wet, and she could just make out the gold of his eyes in the darkness.

She couldn’t help herself. She lifted a hand to his face, pressed her fingers to his cheek. His skin was wet and rough with stubble. He leaned into her touch, then covered her hand with his own.

“About coming with me?” he said, voice low.

Dorothy closed her eyes, the memory coming back to her in a rush. Ah yes. When they’d seen each other in the bathroom the night of the ball, Ash had asked her to run away with him and the rest of the Chronology Protection Agency. It had seemed impossible at the time. She and Roman had been on the verge of enacting their plan to save the city, and the idea of leaving and starting over somewhere else had been ludicrous. Now, though, she felt an ache, remembering.

She’d been so cruel, blowing him off the way she did, telling him that she didn’t want to go with him, that she’d found her own place, here, at the Fairmont and she didn’t need him or his friends anymore. She wanted to climb through the window Ash had just jumped out of and slap her past self. Why had she thought that working with Mac was a better idea? She should’ve left when Ash had given her the chance. If she had, Roman might still be alive. Ash might still be alive. Her chest clenched.

Stupid, stupid . . .

“I—I didn’t,” she said, swallowing. Her skin burned. “I just wanted to see you again. To tell you that I . . . I’ve missed you, too.”

Ash stared at her for a moment. What is he thinking? Dorothy wondered. Was he remembering their kiss?

“I imagined this going differently,” he said, instead.

Dorothy blinked very quickly. It seemed she was the only one thinking about that kiss. “Um, you did?”

His eyes moved over her face, something dark flickering through them. “Call me crazy, but I didn’t figure I’d be doing a lot of kissing when I found the girl who’s gonna kill me. ’Course, I didn’t realize it was going to be you.”

Dorothy caught her breath, her heart beating very hard inside her chest. She hadn’t expected him to come out with that so bluntly. The girl who’s gonna kill me. Despite what Willis had told her about Ash’s prememories, she’d still been holding on to some hope that there’d been a mistake, that Ash had seen someone he only thought was her, that all of this could

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